Broken Cycle
by ShokubaiYume
Summary: 15 years after the fall of Deepground an old heirarchy rises once more. Given a second chance at life, Restrictor seeks support, and finds a loyalty unwavering in a shadow from another world... Gaia will fall and a new God will rise.


**Disclaimers: **I own nothing. Not even my own soul. It's been taken away and given away to far too many people to count. Anyways. The plot bunny might be mine. No, wait, it isn't.

**Warning:** None for this chapter. Some nudity. Nothing major about it though. This story will eventually be YAOI. I can't stand straight pairings. Sorry. Eventual character deaths. Not telling who. But people will die. Violence later on, much violence, gore, explicit content.. hopefully the works. Oh yeah, it's based on an rp. Just thought you should know.

**Other:** I'm a newb. Please don't hate me. I am debating on whether or not to even write the next chapter, which really gets into the plot and characterizations. This is technically my first story.. It's been beta'd by a friend, but..

Flames are welcome. I get cold.

* * *

A gunshot rang with finality, and that had been the last thing he heard. At least, that s what he believed after participating in a rather annoying fight.  
He had merely been doing the same rounds: checking on the Immaculate, making sure that the other tsviets were behaved, and seeing how the training of the newest recruit was coming along.  
Not well it seemed, more like the stupid thing couldn't leave past memories behind or some crap like that. Not like Restrictor cared. His job wasn't to care, in fact, it was the exact opposite. He had one goal, and it was subservient to the other's goals.  
And he needed to imprint that goal upon the tsviets...  
However, his mind was wandering.  
Perhaps his traveling mind was to protect him from the shame that was sure to come, knowing the sheer volume of his failure He had been caught distracted and obviously off guard just long enough to be 'killed' by one of the very ones he was to be training.  
Sure, perhaps it was one of his best ones but the point was, he had failed in controlling him completely. Even with the chip, that infernal man still chose to defy him and attempt to break free.  
Sadly, Restrictor was sure he had succeeded.

It had been routine, but apparently Weiss had been planning it. He had used the new... _thing_ to distract and irritate him enough that he wasn't paying full attention to what the immaculate was doing.  
Why should he? Weiss knew full well what would happen if Restrictor was to be killed. The slight satisfaction in feeling the imbecilic being's organs and bones succumb to his Restrict was a far cry from making up the sudden pain that struck him from behind.  
Weiss had gathered up as much power as he could, and channeled it through materia to blast him while his guard was down, and his attention focused elsewhere.  
The resulting blast had been enough to almost knock him off his feet and he staggered for a moment before hearing a gunshot. The corresponding pain in his body let him know that yes, he was just shot.  
A frown marred his face, not that it could be seen beneath the helmet he wore, but the muscles of his face still sought to express the slightest emotions where they could not be seen.  
He had turned, and faced the rebellious tsviet, struggling for breath only minutely.  
"You know what will happen if you do this." He had calmly faced the potential embodiment of his demise. One of the materia must have been some sort of paralyze, or struck something vital, because he knew he wouldn't be able to restrict the immaculate in time.  
Not that he didn't try.  
A pristine scowl graced the white-haired man's face, as he shot once more.  
And then there was nothing but black.

Dark blue eyes opened to a world very different than he had last remembered. For one, the normal metal that had graced his head was no longer obstructing his view and instead, he saw a smooth surface only inches away from his face.  
Not opalescent, but rather made of some type of metal it seemed, and there was a vague shape outside it. Slight stirrings of some sort of gas swirled around his bare skin, which caused a tingling sensation. This caught his attention and he realized that he was not dressed in anything. From just the observations so far, he seemed to be in some sort of pod.  
Was it an adaptation of the mako tanks?  
He remembered the fight and his foolish mistake. Vaguely he wondered if Weiss survived, or died shortly after as he should have.  
But the biggest priority in his mind was pertaining to the state of himself, and why he was awake and alive. He already had his theories...  
A soft hissing sound brought his attention to the strange surface in front of him as it opened and peeled away, revealing a rather plain room, one that had a few other pods similar to the one he was in, and a large computer, at which sat another restrictor in full attire.  
His gloved fingers flew across the keys and the helmeted head tilted up for a moment, giving a slight peek of glowing, grayish eyes. Restrictor took that as his cue to step out of the containment unit.  
Which he did, and he glanced around himself. There was no need to feel self-conscious or the desire to cover up. Clothes and armor really were pointless against Restrictors. Their main ability was unhindered by anything, so feeling some sense of helplessness, or even humiliation was pointless.  
He observed the other for a moment, watching as the restrictor finished whatever he was doing before standing up and grabbing some clothes, and a helmet from a chair near him.

Confidently, he strode over to the still waiting restrictor and stopped in front of him, slowly walking around the other, almost as if he was looking him over.  
Restrictor did not move, merely waited to be informed of what was going on. Impatience got one nowhere either. There were many rules in the hierarchy, and each one was important. Mostly, ignoring and restricting emotions and memories was a key point to success.  
The Grey-eyed restrictor finally stopped, once more in front of him, and seemed to puff up. "I take it you're fully aware of your past failure." He stated, the helmet making his voice sound that much more dangerous. Restrictor didn't trust his own voice quite yet, as he just nodded in response to the question.  
Yes, he was well aware of his failure, as it was the freshest memory in his mind.  
Did they have something else planned for him? What other purpose was there to retrieve him from such a mess and heal him?  
A soft snicker brought his attention back to the man in front of him, who was observing him keenly through the helmet.  
"Luckily for you, you're being given another chance so that you may make up for your past mistake. Unfortunately, our numbers have dwindled, and we need to use what we have. You sadly, are one of the remaining things we have." A slight sneer was almost able to be heard in that sentence, but Restrictor did not allow himself to show any reaction to that.  
"Your goal remains the same. However, you won't be given such valuable assets this time, as you proved unworthy of handling them." At that sentence, a slight twitch was visible on Restrictor's face; it was ignored however, by the other.  
"You won't be allowed anything with power over the level of a normal, military-trained soldier. And, a very close eye will be kept on you." He continued, seeming to ignore Restrictor's reactions. They were unimportant, as was he. He was just a pawn, and he would be used as such.  
Especially after the failure they had rescued him from.

"You are to take down any remaining bits and pieces of Midgar, you are to destroy Vincent Valentine, and the World Regenesis Organization." Restrictor tilted his head slightly. Those were almost the same goals as before. But they were giving him weaker pawns to use. Meaning, they did not expect him to succeed, or they had an alternative goal that he was not being informed of.  
The other held out the outfit and helmet towards Restrictor, his smug attitude almost radiating off of him. "Questions?" He asked.  
Taking the clothes, Restrictor carefully pondered any questions. "What happened afterwards?" He finally asked, discarding other questions as needless and unnecessary. One could almost see the grin underneath the grey-eyed restrictor's helmet.  
"That unfortunately, is on a need-to-know basis, which you immediately don t need to know. The Tsviets are all dead, and Deepground in is ruins. It's your job to fix it all up. As for details Well. You'll figure those out by yourself."  
With those last words, there was a _twist_ of power, and the other restrictor was gone.

Restrictor put the familiar garb on and placed the helmet over his head, hiding his face once more. Almost a subconscious level of comfort fell over him. Showing one's face was a crime amongst them, merely because it was giving information that was classified to an unclassified being.  
Only the other restrictors may see one's face, as it didn't matter. Outsiders, however, led to a restrictor s death if they happened to see what was classified .  
Once he was fully clothed, he strode out of the room in which he had awoken, and glanced around himself. The halls looked as if a war had taken place and it seemed the room he just came out of was the best kept room. He continued striding through his territory, glancing around at the rubble and barely held up supports.  
Things would need to be fixed. He would make sure that they would be fixed right. The other Restrictor had said he was to be given the resources of an average soldier? That was fine in large amounts, it would help with reconstruction.  
There was work to be done.

In just a few days, he was given a fair amount of genetically engineered old-school type DeepGround soldiers. Just like the ones that used to serve. Mindless minions of servitude, along with a handful of militia that had defected from the WRO and gone to the restrictors, or been scooped up from past projects of ShinRA and had never been retrieved.  
He now had resources, and he used them. He ordered them to begin repairing DeepGround. They would need a base of operations of course, and he wished everything to be restored to its former glory. First the base, then he would work on building up the soldiers, and gaining more. He was curious as to how the place had gotten the way it was...  
But for now, he assigned each small troop an areaand a task, and set them to work. Slightly satisfied he watched as the productive little minions set off and began to work on restoring his 'kingdom'.

Three weeks. In three weeks most of Deepground had been restored to somewhat operational. And in those three weeks, Restrictor had learned of the fates of his Tsviets. Bits and pieces of clues were scattered about here and there if one knew where to look. Weiss had been essentially mind-raped by that scientist Hojo, using technology and the NetDive. His younger brother had followed along loyally, not knowing the difference. The other Tsviets had followed without question, as it allowed them to live as long as they were serving. Unfortunately, that had lead to their entire downfall.  
He now knew why the Restrictors wanted Vincent dead. Although, 15 years had passed at this point, from his so-called death.  
The planet seemed to be well on its way to recovery, and the people were so trusting now it was almost sickening. ShinRA wasn't the major power house or corporation anymore, now it was the WRO, lead by Reeve. He had learned that Cloud Strife and Vincent Valentine didn t seem to age, and were still the same level of threat they had once been, but the rest of their team was no longer in the fighting business. Not that any of that truly mattered to Restrictor.  
He would win. He would accomplish taking out any obstacles that got in the way of his goals.  
Speaking of it seemed one of his hardest obstacles would be finding some sort of pawn or minion that could serve him, and held a decent amount of strength.  
Quantity over quality was a sure-fire way to fall once more. He was sure that the soldiers he had would fall short of what he needed them to do.  
Pacing the halls, he frowned, considering what he should do.  
Perhaps the improvements in technology would help him find what it is he was seeking.  
He made his way to the room that held all of the computers and screens that were observing and holding all the data of DeeepGround and Midgar. One of the militia was there manning the keyboards but upon hearing restrictor enter, he stood up, and saluted.  
"Sir!" Restrictor just tilted his head, and glanced around. "I need you to fix up an old machine, and change it." He said. The man saluted again, and nodded. "Yes, sir. Where is it?" He asked. Restrictor tilted his head in the direction of a closed off door that had been sealed shut for awhile.  
"In there is an older machine that was used to connect to the minds of the DeepGround soldiers, and keep track of those who had chips implanted. It could also be used to travel mentally through the Network." He explained. "You are to fix it up to operational status, and improve upon it. I want it faster, stronger, and able to search farther." He commanded.  
The man saluted once more, and nodded. "How long do I have sir?" He asked.  
Restrictor paused to think. Have it operational in 4 days." He said, and left, his word being final. The man paled for a moment before saluting once more, and turning to the door. Four days, to fix up an old machine, and improve it good thing he was the specialist here.

Now Corporal Den was a smart man. He had grown up in an unstable time, and had watched the world struggle for survival. He had followed intently all the clippings about battles and ShinRA's fall and rise, and Deepground's attacks, then destruction.  
He had also watched the WRO rise and begin to work. He had joined the WRO when he could, beginning to study the mechanics and robotics, wanting to be a creator or someone important.  
Years passed, and it seemed like no matter how much he learned it would never be put to use. He began to feel useless. And that uselessness turned him bitter, and he began looking for new jobs.  
He found one in the new rising of DeepGround and the Restrictors. They needed him, or at least made it sound that way. So he joined, and was not disappointed.  
He had been on the efforts to rebuild this place for the last month or so, and had helped in constructing the training room and the very room he was in right now. Mechanics were his thing, and he excelled in them. Not quite as much as the genius of the century though, but he liked to think he was pretty close.  
Unfortunately, as he opened the sealed door and looked at the mess of wires, screens, and the single chair that resided within, he decided that no, he was not a genius of mechanics. The idol of mechanics, Reeve Tsueti would most likely be able to put all of this together in a heartbeat, and restore it in less time than that.  
He however, had four days. Four days to figure out all the workings, wires, screens, and operations, fix them up, and _then_ improve on them. This was going to be a very difficult task.  
But he was not going to give up on it. In fact, he was determined to see it through, and accomplish this somewhat impossible mission. After all, he had no doubts of the punishment that would entail if the machine was _not_ operational and improved when he was done with it...

Two days went into fixing everything up. Hours upon hours, working solely upon caffeine and little sleep and food. He managed to hook all the wires up, and get the monitors online. Once he had everything working, he had to check and make sure there were no flaws or glitches. That took him almost another 4 hours.  
And then he needed to start improving it. How did Restrictor wish it improved? Speed? Efficiency? Search area? Frowning, the specialist decided to work on all of those and more. The man worked on increasing the power, the output and input, speeding up the search engine, making the computer itself smarter, making the program intelligent enough to almost work on its own.  
It needed be booted up, and steered in the right direction, but then it would grant anything desired. Well, sort of. The hours ticked away, as Den continued working furiously on the machine. He reprogrammed it as well, running through trials, and working out bugs. At the end of the four days arrived, and he had improved Synopsis Net Dive, barely. Den stood back, and admired his handiwork. Outwardly, nothing was different from the mess of wires and cables he had just fixed. It was in the program itself that the differences would be noted. The program would and could do _anything_ asked of it, and accomplish any task.  
Occasionally, it would update itself and keep tabs on things of interest to its users. Not like Den used it himself. He only took trial runs, not looking for anything but rather, working out any bugs. He was proud of his work, and a glance at the clock showed he had finished just in time.  
Maybe he really was the genius he had always wished to be. A slight self-satisfied smirk played upon his features before fading as the noise of the door opening caught his attention, and he saluted quickly, facing the cloaked and helmeted man who had just stridden in.  
"Sir! Everything is finished!" He reported. He couldn't keep his contentment and slight exhaustion out of his voice though.

Restrictor glanced around the room, his gaze taking in the repaired Net Dive and all the waiting monitors. It landed on Den for a moment, observing the details of his body, his posture and otherwise. A single wave of his hand dismissed the peon. "Go get some rest." He instructed. No congratulations or acknowledgement of a good job. No, the man had met expectations, and his reward for that was the rest of the day off. He should feel honored to get so much. They were running on a very tight schedule, and Restrictor couldn't afford to get behind.  
But he couldn't afford to lose any soldiers either. And losing the one who had repaired and re-modified the Net Dive would be foolish. So, for now, Den would sleep. And be valued for at least one more day...  
The man saluted once more before leaving Restrictor alone in the room with the computer, and his own thoughts.

Restrictor approached the machine, taking off his helmet as he neared the wires and the chair. It would just get in the way, and he already knew that he wasn't going to be bothered at the moment. He moved the wires aside, and took a seat, beginning to hook himself up.  
It was time to see what improvements had been made, and time to find some minions and workers worth his time. He needed pawns that would make his goal accomplishable. As soon as the Synopsis Net Dive started up, he was not disappointed. The response time was improved, and the speed at which it analyzed requests was satisfying. Smirking, he began to input his requirements into a search engine, and then increased the search range.

_Search range: Gaia and farther._

_User: Restrictor_

_Requirements: . . . . _  
He paused, and began to mentally go through a list of what he needed.  
With that, he input it, and blinked as a new option showed up. _Connection to mental link_. Curious, he investigated this new option. _Connection to mental link: Creates a direct link to conscious and subconscious commands, to better help in searches. Literally, finding the perfect match for whatever it is one is searching for._

A smirk played upon his face, and he allowed himself a small grin. Well, the more accurate the results were the better then. He sent the affirmative for the computer to do as it pleased then with that, and as soon as he had hit Accept, he felt a strange tingling throughout his body.  
It started in his head, almost like a soft probing, and he closed his eyes, concentrating on what the perfect soldier would be. First off, loyal to him. Strong, able to be trained. Perhaps having training of his own. Male, of course. Females just didn't cut it. A good build, able to withstand many blows. Unique style, to be able to catch others off guard. And did he mention loyal? There would be no repeats of his last mistakes.

The computer began registering his conscious thoughts and wishes, then began to dive deeper, into territory that was unknown even to him. It found more wishes and desires there, and inputted those as well, in code that Restrictor would not bother to read.  
Artificial intelligence had been gained through the new updates, but only ever to please its users. With this search, it would find the one most perfectly matched to what Restrictor desired. And bring the supposed perfection to him. That was what one of the other pods was for, hidden away in a corner of the room.  
Eventually, it had gathered enough data, and let out a soft 'ping' to alert Restrictor that it had finished with the requirements. He glanced over all of it and deemed it satisfactory, and began to remove the hook ups. The estimated time was a few days to seek out the being. He had time. He could wait. He entered in a few more codes, making it so the device would alert him once it found the target. Satisfied once it was all accepted and set up, he picked up his helmet and put it back on his head, leaving the room. He still had other rounds to do, and this had proven most satisfactory. Now he just needed to wait for the results, and see how it went.

As the door closed, the computer hummed to itself quietly, sending out threads of data and consciousness. Finding someone to fit the requirements that that man desired would be difficult, it mused.  
After all, in all the data bases it had, and the new ones it was finding, finding someone who had the ability to give such a thing, while at the same time be willing to servitude, was extremely rare.  
Because, immortality was only a myth, right? What peculiar creatures they were, to wish to be eternal. And hidden so deep in the subconscious for the moment this was truly an interesting era to be created.  
The machine hummed happily as its search left this measly planet, and began to seek through the stars...


End file.
